


That Other Job

by Tieleen



Category: Leverage
Genre: Character of Color, Collection: Purimgifts Day 1, Gen, Gen Fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-02-23
Updated: 2010-02-23
Packaged: 2017-10-07 12:21:45
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 860
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/65113
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tieleen/pseuds/Tieleen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"I can't even tell what the worst part here is," Hardison said, staring down at Parker's chest. "How I can't even get to the high shelf to get the cocoa puffs, or <em>these</em>."</p>
            </blockquote>





	That Other Job

**Author's Note:**

  * For [zvi](https://archiveofourown.org/users/zvi/gifts).



> Happy Purim, Zvi! I hope you enjoy this, and may you be forever safe from evil viziers.
> 
> Takes place during the first season; spoilers for The Miracle Job.

"I can't even tell what the worst part here is," Hardison said, staring down at Parker's chest. "How I can't even get to the high shelf to get the cocoa puffs, or _these_."

Parker frowned. It was probably more puzzled than annoyed, but Eliot's face had a tendency to give most expressions a slight tinge of a promise of violence. "What's wrong with my boobs?"

"Nothing!" Hardison held up his hands, halfway between defensive and petulant – or something, anyway; Parker's face had a tendency to make most expressions pretty damned hard to make out. "I like your boobs just fine – I mean – look, I don't have anything against your anything. I just don't like _wearing_ it."

Sophie had been trying not to say too much; for some reason, the most disturbing part so far was hearing herself with an accent she hadn't decided to put on. The fact that it wasn't her own voice was much easier to deal with. But it had to be said: "This is the most bizarre job we've ever been on."

"No," Parker said thoughtfully, "no, I'm pretty sure stealing the giant angel was weirder."

"Stealing an angel?" Eliot said, disbelieving. "Stealing an angel was weirder that waking up with a dick?"

"Hey!" Hardison had that My Nana look on his - Parker's - face. It was a very odd fit. "_Ladies_ present?"

Eliot threw his hands up. They were, Sophie noted comfortably, very nice hands, even when misused this way. "Yeah – you and me! And would you _please_ stop fondling your boobs? It's making me very uncomfortable."

"Having a dick isn't that weird," Parker said. "I don't know why men always make such a big deal about it."

"Not because it's weird, that's for sure," said Hardison, who'd apparently given up on his war against improper language. He crossed his arms pointedly over his chest and glared across the table at Eliot.

Sophie didn't really know if she agreed with that. It wasn't like being inside a man's body (and really, Hardison was a lovely man, or, at least, a lovely boy, but she'd never intended to be anything like this intimate with his body) was suddenly going to make her a man, since she clearly still had her own brain, however on earth that worked. But, well, too much of her professional life to date had involved men behaving in stupid ways, often to do, to some degree or another, with their bodies. Suddenly being locked inside one was… disconcerting.

It was also disconcerting that they still hadn't heard anything from Nate, who, Sophie was beginning to suspect, must had ended up trapped in some random hotel guest. Not that that should have stopped him from getting back to the conference room. Or maybe he'd switched bodies with their mark, and couldn't leave without seeming suspicious. That would be just their luck.

They were probably going to have to get it together and find him, but seeing as she was still getting tangled up in her own legs, she had a feeling that was going to take a while.

"I hate your stupid body," Parker was telling Eliot. "How do you not get stuck every time you go anywhere?"

"I usually use doors?"

"That's stupid." Now she was crossing her arms too, which looked natural enough on Eliot's body, until you added in the expression. "This sucks."

Eliot swiped some hair back – all right, no, him and Sophie were definitely going to have a long talk about the proper treatment of hair. He could do what he liked with his own, as long as it matched his cover at least, but she had a feeling a few more hours of this and she was going to spend the next year making up for the havoc he was causing on her head.

"Hell yeah, it sucks," Hardison said.

"Why's everyone glaring at _me_?" Eliot demanded, tugging on the hair again.

"You know what, this is it," Sophie told him. "The moment we solve this, we're going to have a nice thorough hair intervention."

Eliot turned to glare at her. "Hands off the hair, Sophie."

"_My_ hands? You –"

"All right, people," Nate said, clapping his hands as he came through the door. "Everybody in place? Excellent. Let's go."

They all stared at him. It was definitely Nate – it was hard to confuse Nate with anyone else – and it was definitely Nate's own body. And Nate's own body didn't seem confused in the least.

"Nate," Sophie said, very very slowly, "tell me this isn't part of the plan."

"Sophie," Nate said, turning to beam at her, "this is definitely part of the plan."

"I'm going to kill you," Eliot said, but even Sophie had to admit she didn't really sound all that intimidating.

"You should really all have more faith in me," Nate said, turning to walk out again. "Well, come on, the con waits for no man."

As they filed out after him - Hardison muttering, "Even if the man has boobs?" under his breath - Sophie wondered if they shouldn't had spent more time convincing Nate he wasn't supposed to perform acts of god in his spare time.  


* * *

  


  



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